[Intro]

[Verse 1: Skeptik]
Fill the pots to the brim, no need for a lid
Back in the day I heard the thunder, and needlessly hid
Now I don't hear the boom, it's drowned out by my speakers
And the sound my heels make they shift against my sneakers
Neither one of us had ever planned for this
Met as amorists, parted as anarchists
The holes I couldn't fill, that's not a turn of phrase
So now when it rains I get flooded for days
But I remain in one spot, stubborn, not stagnant
Clinging to my own worth, as if I was a magnet
Used to never rain here, now it does constantly
One finger to the sky, as if it's what she wants from me
The funny thing is I've forgotten how to laugh
But I sure know how to follow up on tracks
When one pot fills, I replace it with the next
Dump the contents out in the form of text

[Hook: Skeptik & Danny G]
It doesn't matter how many pots are laid out
It's still the same roof, still the same house
The only spot of rain in the middle of a drought
So nobody knows what I'm talkin' about
[Verse 2: Skeptik]
I gotta doubt me, oddly, it's the only thing that fuels me
At least til the day that me and my muse meet
But at this rate, that day will probly never come
A pessimist? Nah, I'm just not dumb
I don't trust in the seasons, never had a reason
Or a cause, or effect, or combination to believe in
I remember what was said, forgetting what was meant
Sentiment and sediment sometimes mix to form cement
I might need just a little bit of grounding
Thunder strikes more than twice if you choose to stick around me
My head and my heart are constantly pounding
So instead, I focus on the life that has found me
Surroundings are gonna dissipate you see
The atmosphere's kinda relevant, or so it seems
Sometimes a rainy day is just what you need
But you gotta be careful not to drown the seed

[Hook: Skeptik & Danny G]
It doesn't matter how many pots are laid out
Its the same roof, its the same house
The only rain in the middle of a drought
So nobody knows what I'm talkin' about

[Verse 3: Skeptik]
Six feet? Try forty leagues
Pretty hard to succeed when you can't even breathe
I wear a shitty grin and make do with what I got
Which, to be straightforward, is not a fuckin lot
A spot to sleep, and a collection of pots
The floors only there to catch the rain as it drops
I wrote this song to it's rhythm, so if it ever stops
The only choice I'll have left is to lay down and rot
Not to complain too much, but I think it rains too much
Melancholy nights with a painful touch
So as the rain keeps falling, I continue blowing smoke
Maybe I can't laugh because I am the joke
It doesn't matter, a simple phrase I use to cope
A void is preferable to the pain of hope
[Hook: Skeptik & Danny G]
It doesn't matter how many pots are laid out
It's still the same roof, still the same house
The only spot of rain in the middle of a drought
So nobody knows what I'm talkin' about